She's 34|Two years divorced|Sick of being bored|‘Bout to throw that saddle back on that horse|He's 39|Way past his prime|Came out of retirement, everybody said|He done lost his mind|But, hey, look at him now|Packin' in that crowd|Just one more touchdown|And he's Superbowl bound||It ain't over til you say it is|Don't pour out your coke a cola|If it's still got a little bit of fizz|Little bit of hop left in that frog|Little bit of bark left in that dog|There might not be a lotta roll left in that stone|Still a little chicken left on that bone||That GTO|It might be old|But truth be told|Underneath that rust is a heart of gold|It's a fixer upper|Every night after supper|He'll twist and yank and make it crank|Until that thang burns rubber||But it ain't over til you say it is|Don't pour out your coke a cola|If it's still got a little bit of fizz|Little bit of juke left in that jive|Little bit of honey left in that hive|There might not be a lotta of roll left in that stone|still a little chicken left on that bone||Get some dust on them boots|Kick the rust off the bucket|What you got to lose|Nothin'||No it ain't over til you say it is|Don't pour out your coke a cola|If it's still got a little bit of fizz|Little bit of tic left in that tock|Little bit of click left in that clock|There might not be a lotta roll left in that stone|Still a little chicken left on that|